


Power Play: a Mycroft x Sherlock (Holmescest) Smut

by SByrdIsTheWord



Category: BBC Sherlock, Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: BDSM, Dirty Talk, Domination, Handcuffs, Incest, M/M, Role Reversal, Slash, Submission, Umbrella, cock torture, talking dirty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-03-27
Updated: 2012-03-27
Packaged: 2017-11-02 14:20:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SByrdIsTheWord/pseuds/SByrdIsTheWord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>BDSM. Sherlock won't take Mycroft's case; the elder Holmes decides to knock some sense into his younger brother. But Sherlock doesn't like being beaten at his own game. The Holmes brothers find themselves bound in a power play, in more ways than one.</p>
<p>Rating just to be safe for future chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Power Play: a Holmescest Smut
> 
> Rating: R :)
> 
> Pairing: BBC!Mycroft Holmes and BBC!Sherlock Holmes
> 
> Summary:
> 
> Sherlock doesn't want to take Mycroft's case. Mycroft decides he's had enough of his little brother's shenanigans, so he decides to teach Sherlock a lesson the hard way. BDSM coming up.
> 
> Why should I bother reading this?:
> 
> Because, let's face it, we all like mindless smut sometimes. And I might eventually turn this into something more than just a simple smut.

"Sherlock, I need you to do this case!" Mycroft slammed his umbrella tip to the ground.

"Well, brother dear, I  _can't_." Sherlock stood up straight, pushing himself up off of Mycroft's desk. "Find someone in that government of yours. Now I must be-oomph!"

Sherlock found himself falling forward, stopped only by a sharp shooting in his shoulder. Mycroft had him propped up at a slight angle using only the tip of his umbrella. Sherlock took on a fake saccharine tone, "Brotherrrrrr," he cooed.

Mycroft removed his umbrella quickly.

Sherlock barely had enough time to put his arms out in front of him and grasp the closest object he could, a table, in time to stop himself from falling flat on his face. He huffed a second, then propped himself up with one hand. He wiped a stray curl from his face. "I'm not...taking...your...CASE!" he seethed through gritted teeth.

"Oh, we'll see about that,  _brother dear_ ," Mycroft mocked him as he stood up. The dark-haired man twirled his umbrella for a minute or two, then moved toward the heaving younger man.

Sherlock could feel his brother's green eyes staring into his own. "No," he raised his eyebrows at his brother, then smiled cheekily.

"You of all people should know,  _brother dear_ , that's it's not a good idea to challenge people who restrain you," Mycroft squatted down to Sherlock's eye level. The older man licked his lips before springing back up, backing away a bit, ever watching Sherlock's narrowing eyes.


	2. Two

Mycroft turned his back to Sherlock, facing the window of his office, studying the curtain's pattern with knitted brows.

"What ever do you mean by that, Mycroft?" Sherlock decided to play the devil's advocate.

There was a  _clang_  as Mycroft pushed his umbrella away from him and onto the floor. Keeping his back to Sherlock, he slowly settled his hands into his front pants pockets. "Oh, brother. Like everyone doesn't know about you and John. The welts, the bruises, the cuts and scrapes are all over your little  _pet_ ," Mycroft spat out. He turned around to face his brother. "But lately the dog has been walking the master, no?"

Sherlock turned his head.

"Oh don't think I haven't seen your bruises as well." Mycroft walked over to his brother. "It's so pathetic, isn't it? Your little 'relationship,'" Mycroft mocked Sherlock with air quotes around his last word.

"I'm married to my work!" Sherlock yelled.

"Oh, so you're just having affair with you flat mate, then?" Mycroft scowled at his brother, who, in turn, cast his eyes down. "He's got a hold on you, Sherlock. Quite literally," Mycroft moved Sherlock's shirt off of his shoulder to reveal a large bruise. "And you, you little slut," Mycroft rapped his brother's shoulder with the tip of his umbrella.

Sherlock scowled, hissing at his stinging shoulder.

"You...enjoy...it," Mycroft whispered in Sherlock's ear.

And that was all Sherlock remembered before it went black.


	3. Three

Sherlock woke up in a daze, slowly blinking his eyes to adjust them to the dim light. Everything was blurry for a minute or two, but he could tell he was in a small space. He continued to blink until his vision improved, but his head was pounding and he still had to squint at the light.

"Closet," he gruffly choked. As he spoke, he felt a smooth, polished surface tighten sharply around his neck.  _What does Mycroft have me tied up in this time?_

He tried to move his hands, but found that they were handcuffed above his head to a thin pole. His unclothed body shivered against the cot.

The door swung open and a fully naked Mycroft entered the closet. "Like my latest toy, do you?" his older brother smiled at him.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes.

"Haven't figured it out, then? Ah, you'll see," Mycroft moved towards the cot.

"What-" Sherlock was choked again by the polished wood. He decided not to talk further, opting instead to look up at Mycroft questioningly.

Mycroft just smiled and crawled on to the bed, hovering over Sherlock. "Now, do you want to play, little bitch?"

Sherlock nodded, keeping his eyes innocent as he tried to focus on picking his handcuffs.

"Then  _let's_ ," a smile stretched over Mycroft's face as he leaned in and bit Sherlock's all ready bruised shoulder.

Sherlock whimpered at his pounding shoulder, flinching forward a bit and choking himself a bit more.

Mycroft backed away and frowned at Sherlock, tutting, "Now, now, Sherlock, we can't have you misbehaving. If you keep this up, I  _will_  have to punish you."

Sherlock's eyes widened and he began trying to pick the handcuffs again, eager to rip them and whatever was around his neck off.

Mycroft inched back towards Sherlock, lowering himself until his cock gently dragged across Sherlock's. He continued to raise and lower himself like this for a few minutes until Sherlock let out a moan  _without_  permission.

At that, Mycroft jumped off of the bed and raised his hand to smack his younger brother.

Ever quicker, though, Sherlock broke free of his handcuffs and managed to bat Mycroft's arm away before freeing his neck.

Mycroft leered at his brother as he lunged for him.

Sherlock tried to scramble out of the way, but found that his ankles were tied down to the edge of the bed.

 _Smack!_  Mycroft's hand collided with Sherlock's cheek, sending his body to the left side of the bed.

Sherlock squinted as he felt his temple begin to throb again.

"Don't you  _ **dare**_ ," Mycroft smacked Sherlock's back, nearly knocking the wind out of him.

"Dis-o-bey me!" he smacked Sherlock across the face on each syllable.

"You," Mycroft roughly grabbed Sherlock's bruised shoulder, forcing his body back to the center of the bed.

"Little," Mycroft leaned in closer to Sherlock, slowly wrapping a hand around his cock.

" _ **Slut!**_ " Mycroft seethed through clenched teeth as his hand tightened mercilessly around Sherlock's cock.

Sherlock's eyes widened and he huffed as silently as possible, trying to contain his reaction to his body's new blood flow.

Mycroft continued to torture his sibling, grinding his teeth and squeezing Sherlock's cock vindictively. After a minute or two, Mycroft let go.

Sherlock heaved violently, his cock now painfully erect. He began taking such deep breaths to try to steady his breathing that he ended up coughing.

Mycroft smacked him, then shoved a hand over his mouth. "No talking, moaning, or heavy breathing without my permission. You know the  _rules_ ," he pushed down on the last word before springing back up.

After a moment, Mycroft cocked his head, watching his heaving brother. "Look at you, all pretty and red," Mycroft dragged a finger across Sherlock's face, tracing his profile lightly. "Red suits you, Sherlock," he smiled, pausing his finger on Sherlock's cheek before giving him another good smack.

Sherlock's eyes were wide as he tried to hide his fear and excitement. Mycroft never ceased to amaze him. He cast his eyes down, wondering if what his big brother told him was true. He did enjoy being dominated, as much as it was against his nature. He really was a little slu- "Ow!" Mycroft had rapped him across the stomach with...his  _umbrella?_  Sherlock's eyes widened as he realised that the umbrella handle must have been what was choking him.

Mycroft twirled the umbrella in his hand, fingering the tip of it softly. He decided that he wasn't yet finished punishing his ever-unruly little brother. But he wasn't going to let him know that just yet.

"Dear brother," Mycroft smiled and sat next to Sherlock on the bed. "You were all ways the rebellious one, Sherlock. Never,  _ever_  following the rules," he grabbed Sherlock's hand. "But, I suppose," Mycroft ran a thumb over Sherlock's palm, "you must forgive me. My temper does get so...unmanageable as I progress on this diet," he sighed.

Sherlock opened his mouth to respond, but thought best to close it immediately.

"Good boy," Mycroft smiled, then leaned in to give Sherlock a chaste kiss on the lips.

"Now," Mycroft sat up. "Let's get back to our game, shall we?"

Sherlock closed his eyes and took a shaky breath, preparing himself for God knows what.

"Now, now, don't be so scared. Rebellion much more suits you, Sherlock." Mycroft raised Sherlock's hand to his mouth and kissed each finger.

Sherlock's eyelids fluttered lightly in response.

Eager to surprise his younger brother, Mycroft quickly slipped an entire finger into his mouth, causing Sherlock's eyes to pop open.

Mycroft smiled as he sucked on Sherlock's finger, feeling Sherlock's finger prune up beneath his touch. As Mycroft slipped the next digit into his mouth, he glanced down to the end of the bed for confirmation that Sherlock was enjoying their game. And, my, was he ever. Mycroft felt a shiver run down to his own cock and he let out a hungry moan in anticipation.

At this point, Sherlock himself was salivating, gulping as Mycroft explored previously unaffected zones on his body. That was the difference between sex with John and sex with Mycroft, he decided. Mycroft knew how to bend all the rules and try things that John never could have dreamt of.

Sherlock had to put much effort into not moaning as Mycroft slowly slid his fingers from his mouth.

"Now, Sherlock," Mycroft dropped his younger brother's hand and smiled. "Let's play."


End file.
